


White Roses

by RebaK1tten



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Future Fic, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Post Hale Fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 17:13:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2659955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebaK1tten/pseuds/RebaK1tten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone in the pack stops by the cemetery today.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Roses

Stiles parks his car on the small road close to the monument. He’s still in his work clothes, having come directly from school. Meaning sharply pressed khakis, a button down shirt with a sweater over it. It’s warm out, so his jacket is folded on the car seat. 

He shuts the door quietly, not because he’s trying to be sneaky, but just out of respect. Peter’s certain to know that he’s here already; he probably heard the car when he pulled into the cemetery.

Everyone in the pack stops by the cemetery today. Derek may no longer be their alpha, but he’s in the pack and let’s face it, created most of the turned wolves. And they all know that it wouldn’t be the McCall-Hale pack without him. 

So they drop by in twos or threes to pay their respects, leaving a flower or some trinket on top of the large headstone with nine names on it. Over the years, there’s been candles, a shell, rocks and other things along with the usual flowers.

The pack goes in the morning leaving the noon hour for Derek. Someone always goes with him, not that he wants it or necessarily needs it, but just to show support. He used to fight about it, insisting that he didn’t need a baby-sitter, that he was fine and wanted to be alone. The pack tells him that they won’t interfere and they’re not there to intrude, but they’re going. It’s not an offer and not an option. Or as Isaac so succinctly put it, “Derek, get your ass in the car.”

After Derek has his time in the cemetery, anyone else who didn’t make it over in the morning comes to pay their respects. Stiles found out a year or so ago that his father comes every year, during an afternoon break. It’s partially an acknowledgement of his and Peter’s relationship. But it’s also because he remembers that afternoon over a decade ago when there were two teenagers in his office, weeping and in shock, waiting for social services to arrive. 

The late afternoon before sunset is traditionally reserved for Peter. It’s not that he has a right to more time than Derek or the right to mourn more than Derek. Stiles knows he spends his time apologizing for not saving them from the fire. And for how long it took him to avenge them. And for the methods that he used to do so. 

Peter stands in between the stone with nine names carved in it and the smaller plaque in the ground honoring Laura. Nine people - parents, siblings and spouses, including his wife, Tricia.

Stiles stands behind him, waiting to be acknowledged. Some years, Peter has welcomed him to sit with him, telling Stiles stories about his family. Other times, Stiles has stood quietly beside Peter when he doesn’t want to talk. 

One year, Peter turned and snarled for Stiles to leave. That was the year after their mating ceremony and Stiles waited back at their home, trying not to think Peter might be having second thoughts and might not return. He did, of course, and later they made love and Stiles might have cried and Peter might have apologized for his reaction earlier. Peter might have told him not to worry, Stiles would have to murder him again to get rid of him. Stiles might have punched him. 

Now, Peter turns around and smiles at his husband, and holds out a hand, gesturing for him to come forward.

“How was work?” Peter asks, kissing him.

Stiles shrugs and leans into the kiss. “Okay. Uneventful. How’re you?”

Peter takes his hand and turns back to the monuments in front of him. “I’m good,” he says, nodding. “Yes, I’m good, thank you.” 

They stand quietly looking at the new items – a little copper dish with a burnt incense cone in it. There’s a few coins on top and a polished piece of pink quartz.

“Coins were originally left on gravesites to help pay Charon to cross the River Styx to the afterlife,” Stiles says.

“Hmm,” Peter answers. “I’d hope they’re across by now.”

“Maybe they can save some for you, I’m sure you’ll have an extra fee,” Stiles answers, grinning at Peter and getting a grin back.

“Not for a long time, my love.” Peter turns to him and says, “I thought, if you want, that we could go visit your mother’s grave. If you’d like.”

Stiles tries not to look too surprised when he answers, “We can if you want. It’s not her birthday or anything like that.”

Peter bends down and picks up a vase of white roses that Stiles hadn’t noticed earlier. “It doesn’t have to be any occasion. You said your mother liked white roses, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” he says and sniffs the roses, in their graveyard ready vase. “But we don’t have to…”

“Yes we do, Stiles. One thing I think I’ve learned is to appreciate the moment. So we’re here with flowers, and I want to tell your mother what an attractive, intelligent young man you’ve become. Who has excellent taste in men.” Peter squeezes his hand and pushes his face in Stiles’ neck, nipping slightly behind his ear, leaving his scent.

“She already knows that, Peter,” he says and walks towards a path that will lead them to the other side of the cemetery where his mother’s grave is.

Peter shrugs again and says, “Then we can tell her about your creative swear words to avoid traumatizing your students.”

“Holy cats is a perfectly good, and age appropriate curse,” Stiles says, grinning as he brings Peter’s hand up to kiss his knuckles.

“Well if your students aren’t traumatized by that, I am,” he replies.

Stiles hip checks him and says, “We have some steaks at home if you’re hungry later.”

Peter leans over to kiss Stiles’ temple as they walk. “I could eat,” he says.

Stiles knows that Peter will be back at the cemetery before the next anniversary. Sometimes he goes alone and sometimes Stiles goes with him. 

But they’ve gotten through today. And they’ll get through the next time and the next anniversary and the ones after that. Just like always.

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I'm working on the other chaptered fic, but this one came out whole and wanted to be written, so there you go.


End file.
